Our Christmas letter, written by my husband.
Dear Friends and Family, Christmas 2011
Among the outlands of the Big City there lives a family of the King. Highborn nay, for they were of lesser-than-royalty means. Unto Him, though, they were born again, not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.
They testify to the true light that had come into the world, the one that gives light to every man. Adventus – Ecce advenit Dominator Dominus, in the old Roman tongue. “Behold, the Lord, the Ruler is come.” In study, the senior children of the family labor the ancient language, a pillar of the Western Way. In greater study the family hopes on the Revelation of God.
In a lesser way, yet still of the glory of God is now told the advent story of another family child. His or her – we know yet not – birth shall come, Lord willing, of the time of Summer Solstice. The first, this child be, of the family seven or nine if counting patriarch and matron, to be born in that twelfth of the year. Great joy and some trepidation abound mother and father dwelling, they do and will, on the blessed event.
“Fear not,” though, the Heavenly Host had once said at the advent of the King’s Son. It would seem the Spirit of that Host would gladly now proclaim a message of comfort and joy to these sojourners to the Celestial City. For the revelation of God proclaimed blessing to a man whose quiver is full. “Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are sons born in one’s youth.” Though convinced of divine revelation, the family’s preacher wonders on the word “youth.” Aged in the flesh he has become – yea, well-nigh a half century – though his spirit is renewed every morning – Great is thy Father’s Faithfulness!
Far from fear, the brood anticipates enchantment and thrills at the next child’s coming. Be it boy, then five golden rings there be. Be it girl, then four calling birds shall sing. And what of this kin of the King? Adopted of spiritual descent, the King gathers their souls for heaven’s joy. In proclamation of what the Lord has done, the band’s older three confessed His grace accepted. Ceremony was had in the eighth month of the Roman calendar, and these three symbolized the death-to-life journey in the large waters by the Big City. Though riotous the ribbons of the lake pounded, all three along with yet another four of the same fellowship came up out of the waters.
There be the patriarch yes, and the seven plus one of which we speak. But what of the unsung one, the matriarch and her blessed sacrifice? For through the clamor of corporal change, she bears each new life and enlarges in fuller blessing this warrior remnant. War there will be, if it be among men too, then parallel wars be they. Struggle against the flesh and blood there may be, but against the rulers and authorities, and spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms, there will be.
The unsung one shall be sung. “Blessed!” exclaims her children and her mate when they rise in her presence. A war bride she be and the yeoman’s load she carries, thy children gather about her, and the Word of the Lord is on her lips. Perfection nay be she, but a readiness she fits to tell the wondrous stories of unseen things above.
Yet she and they and he all bow this Christmastide (and of every day) to worship the King! Adventus – yes there was He. Adventus – yes there will He be. Come Lord Jesus and set us free!
Love, The Mayos – Michael and Gena and their children